Somebody That I Used To Know
by WiseGurl Winchester
Summary: "You know, you can tell me stuff if you want to." Luke said. Thalia smiled. "Thanks." Luke leaned unconciously against Thalia, her head slumping on his shoulder. The two sat silhouetted by the rising sun; the dark-haired, fierce girl, and the golden sun-boy, each one enshrined in one another's presence, watching the sun rise over the hills of New York.


Thalia Grace.

Daughter of the Greek god Zeus and the New York starlet Millicent Grace.

That was all Thalia had ever been known for.

But tonight, that would change.

By tomorrow, Thalia would no longer be the daughter of Millicent Grace, subject to her alcoholic tendencies and psychotic rants against various husbands who cheated on her and left her.

Thalia could see why.

Thalia slipped the last pair of socks into her backpack and silently opened the window latch. She slipped out, locked it behind her, and shimmied down the maple tree outside of her window.

Her sleeve snagged on a branch and she cursed under her breath, tearing it in her attempts to get free. She reached the ground and sighed with relief. Her desire to be free had overpowered her fear of heights.

Thalia set off at a brisk pace towards the bus station, wincing visibly every time the soles of her black combat boots met the autumn leaves on the pavement, causing a large crunching sound.

Through the scant light cast from the new moon, you could see Thalia's slim, sturdy silhouette hunched against the cold breeze as she sat on the rickety bench at the bus stop, occasionally pulling her beat-up leather jacket tighter around her bony shoulders.

Stay awake, Thalia told herself. Going to sleep now won't help your predicament at all.

To keep herself occupied, Thalia thought about her little brother, Jason.

Jason was Millicent Grace's pride and joy; the perfect gentleman.

He was popular.

Handsome.

Likeable.

Friendly.

Loved.

Everything that Thalia wasn't.

And yet she loved him anyway. With all her heart.

And she missed him.

One winter day that Thalia could clearly remember, a couple of weeks after Jason's seventh birthday, Millicent had enrolled Jason in some sort of school that she wouldn't tell Thalia about.

Thalia missed Jason, but she never feared for his safety. Millicent never would have sent Jason somewhere that he would be in danger.

As Thalia pondered her predicament, the sun peeped over the distant horizon, bleaching the world in a milky haze of morning light.

Thalia thought about how if she hadn't run away, the same milky light that had cut across the once-dark streets would instead be streaming gently through the cream colored curtains in her bedroom.

She would be waking up in the big, four-poster bed, and pulling the lace canopy aside to slide out and change from her Chinese silk nightgown into some sort of bubblegum pink contraption, that, according to her mother, was "the latest craze, darling."

Thalia yawned and stretched her arms, wondering how long she had been sitting at the bus stop. Although she wasn't very patient, and hated waiting, she would do anything to get away from her mother, one of her mother's body builder boyfriends, and the life that she hated so. Sometimes, Thalia thought that if she knew her father, things would be different.

Thalia had never met her father. He had left her mother before she had been born. According to Millicent, who was always open about her relationships "as you should be, too, when you grow up", but although he apparently wasn't very dependent, Millicent spoke about him as if he was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

"So handsome," she would croon, "almost godlike."

Thalia sighed. Maybe, if her father had stayed, Millicent wouldn't be so... crazy. Although she was nearing her forties, Thalia's mother still acted like a teenage girl; wild, carefree, and utterly irresponsible.

Thalia, although a pessimist at heart, tried desperately to see the bright side of her mother's alcoholic tendencies and irresponsibility.

Maybe it would make Thalia a better person. A more responsible, more self-driven figure. A better mother.

Not that Thalia planned to have children. Thalia saw life as a mandatory event, not a gift. She didn't want to push yet another human into the pit of hell that was called life.

As Thalia philosophized, she finally saw the bus roll up. There was no one in it, excepting the elderly driver.

Thalia stood up, stretching, her joints aching from sitting cold and cramped for hours.

The bus driver waved her over and motioned for Thalia to pay her ticket, not saying anything. Thalia held out a wad of cash and the driver took it greedily, plopping back down into the seat.

Thalia sat down in the back of the bus, trying hard to keep awake.

But it was no use. By the time they had crossed the Brooklyn Bridge, Thalia had fallen asleep.


End file.
